Coffee Cups
by KittenBeanie
Summary: Cute little coffee-flavored one-shot.


**_Coffee Cups_**

This is another one that ended up longer than planned. Because Kurt would drag someone around a city without telling them why. Enjoy!

* * *

The first time Kurt gets coffee from a stranger, it goes like this: He's tapping the end of his pencil pensively against his empty coffee cup, scowling. He finished his design a half hour ago, but by the will of the spaghetti monster, he's still here because it's 'not exactly what we're looking for.'

Whatever. It's a great design, Kurt sighs. Perfect for another show.

He grabs another sheet of sketching paper and a white rubber eraser, hastily spewing out a human figure. The jacket itself slows his hand, making him think more. Kurt's on autopilot. Remembering angles and shapes, length and style and fucking _theme_.

He attempts to take a swig of his coffee before wrinkling his nose in disgust because the cup hasn't been magically refilled since he finished it hours ago. Kurt picks himself up from his desk to actually through out the cup wrapped in its brown cardboard sleeve. He won't make the same mistake twice.[[MORE]]

Glancing at his freshly clothed paper doll, Kurt managed not to grimace. This one's not at all contemporary. It's classy and old-fashioned, something he himself would wear but missing the mark. _Again_.

There's a knock at the door and Kurt whips his head upwards.

"Mr. Hummel?" a boy- no- _man_ is peering through the window timidly. "Ms. Parker told me to bring you this..."

The man is tan-skinned and has dark, curly locks peeking out from a mustard-colored beanie. His skinny jeans are a dark green that complement his complexion. Over the jeans he has a dark gray sweater with two ebony buttons undone. Hightops that match the man's shirt cover his feet, and glasses Kurt would think appear weird and nerdy on anyone else duck under his triangular eyebrows.

"Mr. Hummel?" Kurt snaps out of it, finally noticing that beanie-boy has a cup of coffee in his hand. "Ms. Parker got you coffee."

"Come in," Kurt grins. This man is _gorgeous_.

The man thoughtfully starts again, "She said you'd probably still be working. And she wanted me to tell you, and I quote 'think about the red scarf.' I have no idea what that means, so I hope you do."

Of course Kurt knows what that means. He did a small scarf collection to add to other outfits a short while ago. The red one had been long, cashmere, and perfect.

"Here," the man nervously holds out the cup of coffee again.

Gingerly taking it from him, Kurt asks, "Who are you? I generally don't take coffee from strangers, there's always the chance they've poisoned something-" he pauses to sniff at the lid "-Seems okay. But I've never seen you around before."

"Oh!" the brunette says, relieved. "I'm Blaine. I'm just from the mail room. Not a big designer, I just run errands." He laughs. "So that includes coffee, I guess."

"Ah," Kurt takes a tentative sip. "So not a serial killer."

Blaine's eyes grow wide, "Well I don't think so."

"Good. Death by coffee isn't the way to go."

"Sounds..."

"Positively horrid. But taking everything into consideration, I'll get back to you on that," Kurt winks, then turns back to his work. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Blaine blushes and looks at the ground. He hastily turns before tripping slightly out the door, and his ears turn pink down to his neck.

Kurt smiles and waves.

The second time Blaine stops in with coffee, it's in the early morning, the first waking hour of work that Kurt struggles through every day. He's definitely not a morning person.

"Coffee?" Blaine questions extra cheerfully.

Kurt doesn't bother looking up, just sticking out his arm very willingly, groaning and running his other hand through his limp hair. His hair isn't even awake.

"Yes?"

"Coffee, Blaine."

"What do we say? 'Thank you Blaine for the cup of coffee, it's just what I need this early in the morning,'" he says shyly to the ground.

Kurt glares, snatching the cup from the holder in Blaine's arm.

"You're welcome," Blaine mumbles.

After swallowing, Kurt looks at him, sincere. "Thank you, Blaine, for the cup of amazing coffee. Which is what I need this early in the morning, because the sun shouldn't even be awake," Kurt add-libs.

Blaine's turning out the door when he looks over his shoulder and offers a small smile. "Not a morning person, huh?" And then he disappears.

The third time Blaine comes around, Kurt's jumping up and down, grinning like an idiot.

"Blaine! Coffee! Coffee!" Kurt reaches with grabby hands.

Blaine simply stares and blinks, pulling the cup carrier closer to his body. He's got on a wine purple sweater this time. "I'm not sure you need it..."

"Blaine," Kurt whines. "Coffee!" He jumps up and pulls a cup from the tray, dancing around the office.

"What are you on...?" Blaine continues to stare.

"A ton of my pieces got in the show. You know, the big one, next week!" Kurt gasps. "Rachel. I have to tell Rachel." Dropping his cup lightly on the table, he grabs his phone and starts typing out a message with his thumbs faster than he's ever texted before. "We need to celebrate this. Sleepover stuff. Yes."

Blaine's blank but curious expression visibly drops. "Who's Rachel?"

"Friend. She lives in the NYADA dorms. Thank god." Kurt exasperates. "She's continuing to pine over her ex-boyfriend, my step-brother. It's been months." Kurt rolls his eyes. "Women. So glad I don't have a brain and anatomy with hormones that want to deal with their moronic capabilities and romantic mental- err- mental and in Rachel's case, physical clutches."

The triangular eyebrows on Blaine's forehead automatically raise in delight on their own accord, but the designer doesn't seem to notice.

"Congrats, Kurt," Blaine grins bashfully.

"Thank _you_ for the coffee. And for continuing to listen to my crazy speeches. They'll never end, I'm sure," he says, glancing up from his phone.

Blaine laughs lightly, closing the door behind him gently.

Later that week, Kurt's passing the downstairs mail room to personally retrieve ribbons and cloth when something catches his eye. He does a double take, pulling himself back.

Kurt peeks in where Blaine's dancing around the cart, putting things in their rightful places and jumping on the spinning chair in front of the counter. He slides across the ground in front of the mail cubbies on the chair, jamming on an air guitar to the music blaring through his ear buds.

Then Blaine starts pointing to each of the cubbies in time to the fast-paced beat. Kurt can identify it as Katy Perry's "Teenage Dream" from the words Blaine's mouthing and the motion of sliding his hand down the side of his red-pants clad thigh that only can be 'skintight jeans'.

Kurt laughs to himself and wordlessly walks away. Behind shy Blaine is the cutest guy Kurt's ever had the pleasure to meet.

It's the fourth time that Blaine's peering over Kurt's shoulder to see what he's drawing. It's kind of cute, Kurt admits. Actually, Blaine's adorable; Kurt's known that for a while.

"What do you think?" Kurt swivels in his chair. "Too showy?

"Kurt, it's a fashion show," Blaine points out logically. "'Showy' is in the phrase."

Kurt looks back at the women's jeans he'd been sketching out. There's a line of criss-cross ribbon all along the side that he's just not to sure about. "You're right," he concludes. That's not something he does often, giving credit to other people. Maybe that's why Rachel's lasted so long. She never lets anyone take anymore credit than the minimum amount of credit they deserve.

Kurt head tilts back up at Blaine, smiling. "This is what I'm like normally. The other time's you've meet me, I have no idea who that was. Crazy person was in my rightful place."

The corner of Blaine's mouth tilts up in turn. "Even the time you asked if I poisoned your coffee? He's not so bad, I kind of like all of those crazies."

Kurt full-out grins. "Really?"

"I think so," Blaine ducks his head. "And I was kind of wondering- not that I'd been thinking about it a lot or something- or I have but just didn't have the right time- well, I didn't-"

"Blaine," Kurt stops him.

Blaine peeks up, "Yes?"

"I'd love to."

The irises of Blaine's beautiful hazel eyes brighten to shades of gold and hot chocolate, the beanie slipping out of the gently curled hair.

The final time Kurt gets coffee from a stranger, it's because Blaine insists on paying for his. They're just at the café at Vogue, nothing fancy. Kurt thinks it's perfect.

"Blaine," Kurt pokes Blaine's shoulder. "Stop dazing."

Blaine blushes from his ears to his neck, mumbling an apology.

"Mm, no it's okay. It's cute," Kurt smooths.

The tips of Blaine's ears which aren't covered by his brown beanie and wild curls turn an even redder shade of pink, and Kurt pulls him to a table by his arm.

"So, Blaine," Kurt starts. "Tell me about yourself."

Blaine begins to open his mouth when the opening notes of 'Teenage Dream' come drifting out of Blaine's pocket from his phone.

Before Kurt can stop himself, he blurts out, "We don't have spinny chairs in here, Blaine. Try to restrain yourself from trying. I don't want you to get hurt."

Realization dawns on Blaine face. "You saw- what? How?" He squeaks.

"I was getting fabric when I saw you through the mailroom window," Kurt admits. "I'm not judging you or anything. You were so cute."

Blaine's staring at his travel coffee cup when Kurt pulls him up and says, "C'mon."

"Where are we going?"

"Outside," Kurt states.

Blaine asks curiously, "Why...?"

"Because." And Blaine doesn't say anything after that.

They walk in silence before getting to the dingy subway steps.

"You have a metrocard, right, Blaine?"

Blaine nods, "Kurt, where are we going?"

"Central Park."

The couple exits the underground, and when they finally reach Central Park and Kurt pulls Blaine to the bridge and sets his coffee on the railing and sets his forearms on it, staring outwards. Blaine simply stands and looks down at Kurt. "I didn't think embarrassing myself at work was worth a weird trip to the park, Kurt. If you're going to say something, you could have said it at the office."

Kurt shakes his head. "I was in show choir in high school. We took Nationals in 2012."

Blaine thinks. "You went to McKinley?"

"Mm-hmm. I'm from Lima, Ohio and you dancing to Katy is exactly how I am when Barbara comes on or Wicked or anything else Broadway," Kurt glances at Blaine. "Obviously I have better taste in music, but that put aside, I still really like you, Blaine."

That was an understatement.

"Kurt," Blaine sighs, running his fingers through his hair that pokes out underneath his beanie. "Why are we here?"

"Because when I pictured getting my first kiss, I always pictured it on a bridge in Central Park. Well, actually, it was night time in my head and the stars were out, but this will do. I'm not very patient," Kurt shrugs and stands. "So Blaine Anderson, would you like to do the honors?"

"I- I- yeah," Blaine stutters, surprised by the turn of events, then slowly leans forward.

Kurt gasps when their lips meet; Blaine's lips are warm and moist. His eyes flutter closed. After a moment Kurt breaks the kiss gently, breathing in shakily.

"Kurt?" Blaine murmurs. "You okay?"

Eyes opening, Kurt smiles lethargically. "Oh, there you are."

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And so if you didn't like that Kurt used Blaine's line, reblog so others can share the sentiment. :)

Thanks for reading!


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